Yes, Ma'am!

*Author's Note: I came up with the title and an idea for this story a year ago, but no matter how I tried to spin it, it just wasn't working.

I work with a retired Marine Corps colonel and two retired lieutenant colonels, and one of them was recently telling a story about a Marine colonel he once worked for when he was the commanding officer of a Low-Altitude Air Defense (LAAD) or Stinger missile battalion, in North Carolina. LAAD (pronounced 'lad') battalion is one unit in a Marine Air Control Group which is, in turn, part of a Marine Aircraft Wing.

Even then, I wasn't all that interested until he also mentioned a female major who was dating a male first lieutenant in the Control Group. I perked up and listened with interest as this retired colonel, who is the straightest shooter I know, talked about that and his former Group commander who was nothing short of a tyrant. This went on for nearly an hour as others asked questions and shared similar stories, but no one had ever worked for anyone that bad.

After thinking about it for a day or two, the story basically wrote itself using his true tale as the basis for it.

As with my other Marine-related stories, I remind readers that Marines say 'platoon commander' rather than 'platoon leader' and that time is 'zero-nine hundred' and never 'oh-nine hundred' and the word 'hours' is never used, either. Also, Marines wear 'covers' and not hats. (And for any Marine experts, take the time in service for promotion to colonel in this story with a grain of salt, okay?)

You won't need any more explanation to follow the story, but for those with some military background who are interested, this may be of further help. Otherwise, feel free to skip it and start the story!

Very briefly, there are four Marine Air Control Groups in the Marine Corps, one in each of the three Marine Aircraft Wings (which are not the same as an Air Force Wing but more like a numbered Air Force) and a reserve Group. There is one MACG on each coast and another in Okinawa. Within the Group are several squadrons and one battalion. LAAD battalion has been explained. The squadrons are:

The Marine Air Support (or MASS) squadron which links the infantry with the air wing via a shelter called the Direct Air Support Center or DASC. When 'grunts' need bombs on target, their radio call goes to the DASC and from there those who control the launching of the aircraft (via some other comm links.)

The Marine Air Control Squadron which has large radars that track aircraft and assist in aerial combat. It is the home of the Tactical Air Operations Center or TAOC. In the Marine Corps, this is what is meant by air defense. (The LAAD battalion provides anti-air warfare, NOT air defense like the Army calls it.)

The Marine Tactical Command Center or MTACC which is the senior agency from which the Wing Commander, a two-star general, fights the air war to support ground forces.

All squadrons and the battalion are commanded by a lieutenant colonel. The Groups are commanded by colonels. Keep in mind that lieutenant colonels are usually addressed as 'colonel'.

I'll explain other oddities as the occur. Confused yet? :-)

Other than that, I'll make sure to spell out acronyms and abbreviations (all ranks use USMC abbreviations, btw), and offer short explanations to keep the confusion to a minimum.

Above all else, it's a love story. I hope you enjoy it.

******

"Captain Kennedy. I'm LtCol Strader. Welcome aboard."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"I'm sure you're asking who you pissed off to get stuck with this job, but the fact is, you're now the new Group adjutant. This is unlike anything you've done in LAAD Battalion, but this is your mission. Oh, and before I introduce you to the Group Commander, let me warn you he's a no-nonsense kind of guy, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied again.

"As such, when I tell you to report to the Commanding Officer of Marine Air Control Group-28, you'll be expected to report."

"As in...standing at attention, ma'am?" the puzzled young officer asked.

LtCol Holly Strader was the Group Executive Officer. She'd been on active duty for just over 21 years and had recently been passed over for promotion several months back. She could try one more time, but the odds were stacked against her so she'd put in for retirement and would be doing so in another five months. Her boss, the Group Commander, Colonel Tom Clarke, had only recently been promoted to his present rank, but prior to that, he'd been junior to her by a year as she'd been commissioned in 1998 while he put on his gold bars a year later. But that was then and this was now, and the new colonel was in command and she wasn't.

The young captain sensed her discomfort even though she showed no visible indication as she said, "Exactly."

"Understood, ma'am," he told her.

"Other than that, pay careful attention to everything he says. You do not want to have to be told something a second time," she warned.

Again, the new adjutant replied as he just had with, "Understood, ma'am."

"Okay. Let's go meet the boss," she said as she stood up and came around to the front of her desk where the captain had been sitting.

Captain Josh Kennedy had been on active duty for just over six years, and the last time he'd stood at attention for anyone was at TBS, or The Basic School, in Quantico, Virginia.

TBS was a six-month school for all newly commissioned officers regardless of future MOS or Military Occupational Specialty. Future infantry officers, future pilots, lawyers, admin officers, supply officers, and everyone else went through the course to understand what the guy on the ground was going through. This experience created a bond between all officers of all MOSs and helped all of them understand the urgency of getting tasks done quickly and efficiently—especially when Marine lives depended on them.

The inside joke at TBS was that the second lieutenants going through the course were really 'third lieutenants'. They were commissioned officers, but the new officers often felt like they were treated more like Marine lance corporals than second lieutenants. It wasn't really true, but that's how it felt because they were all assigned to platoons with a Marine captain in charge called a Staff Platoon Commander or SPC, and captains at The Basic School may as well have been gods.

There wasn't any yelling. All of that ended with OCS or Officer Candidates School, but everything one's SPC suggested or requested was an order, and eager 2ndLts carried them out immediately and without question.

But here he was, six years later, having spent one of those years in Afghanistan where he was awarded the Bronze Star, about to report to his new commander at the position of attention like a third lieutenant.

The initial 'meet & greet' lasted about 20 minutes. Captain Kennedy spent the first five of those boring holes into the wall above the Group Commander's head as he stood in front of and centered on, the colonel's desk at the position of attention while being told in no uncertain terms what was expected of him. The last 15 minutes also were spent standing after the CO gave him permission to stand at ease. Even so, Josh Kennedy stood more at parade rest, never moving other than to answer, "Aye, aye, sir," or respond to some other expectation.

"Lastly," the colonel said, "the XO is your lifeline. As a primary staff officer, you have the right to come directly to me, but it better be damned important. Otherwise, you run everything, and I mean everything, through her. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the captain replied clearly and quickly.

"Any questions for me?"

"None, sir."

"Very well. You're dismissed, young man. Now get to work."

The colonel looked back at the paperwork on his desk as Captain Kennedy snapped to attention before taking one step to the rear and executing an about face prior to marching out. Marines never saluted indoors (unless wearing a duty belt and a cover), so none was rendered.

LtCol Strader was waiting for him, and when she smiled, it took off a huge load of pressure.

"Intense, right?" she quietly said.

"You can say that again, ma'am," the relieved captain told her.

"Come on. Let me introduce you around to the rest of the staff," she said before pointing to the door that lead from the combined area where they and the CO each had offices.

The XO introduced the new 'adj' to the S-1 or admin officer, a Marine major, the S-2/Intelligence officer, also a major, the S-3/Operations Officer, a LtCol, and the S-4/logistics officer who was a major who'd recently been selected for promotion and who would be leaving to take command of a supply battalion at Camp Lejeune in another couple of months.

"As you know, I'm responsible for staff coordination, so while they all work directly for the CO, just as you and I do, everything runs through me."

The LtCol smiled again then quietly said, "And I mean everything."

"Yes, ma'am," a nervous Josh Kennedy replied as he nervously smiled, too.

As they walked back to their offices, the XO asked where he was from, whether or not he was married, and how he'd enjoyed his time with Second Low-Altitude Air Defense Battalion where Josh had been a platoon commander, a battery XO, and a firing battery commander.

"I'm from the Seattle area, ma'am. No wife, and I absolutely loved my time with LAAD Battalion," he told her trying to be accurate and succinct.

"I'm sure. I had a great time as an Air Defense Officer and was lucky enough to become a Senior Air Director and a detachment commander a couple of times. Unfortunately, I didn't screen for command, and as you know, if you don't command as a lieutenant colonel, you can forget about ever being a colonel."

"So what's next for you then, ma'am?" Josh asked her.

"Well, I'll be here until I retire in a few months. After that? I'm not sure yet."

They got back to the office complex when she said, "I went through a very messy divorce a year and a half ago, so I'm still trying to work out what to do with the rest of that part of my life, as well."

She smiled as she said it, and it was then that Josh confirmed what he already knew. LtCol Holly Strader was a very attractive woman. That wasn't unusual as nearly every female officer he'd ever met was at least reasonably attractive. There were definitely exceptions to the rule, but for the most part, female officers tended to be good looking, and Colonel Strader was way above average, especially for someone her age.

Her naturally blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun, but it looked to be about shoulder length. She had a very pretty face and because she'd been a runner her since high school and college, she still had a very firm body even at the age of 43.

Josh's thoughts were interrupted when she said, "I'm gonna go PT for lunch. Can you handle things by yourself yet?"

The truth was, he still didn't know up from down. Even the phone numbers of other staff officers were unknown to him. He had a list of them on his desk, but other than that, he'd never had any kind of administrative assignment before, and the combat veteran found himself feeling like a fish out of water.

"Yes, ma'am. No problem," he told her.

"Okay. Good. I've been here for four months, and I haven't gone home before 1800 once. I try and get in an hour before the CO, but he gets here at zero-six thirty, so lunch is the only time I can get a run in," she told him.

She hesitated, smiled, then said, "I suppose not having to worry about ever disappointing a pissed-off husband again has been the only good thing about being single."

She laughed then said, "Well, so far, anyway. I have friends who've assured me it gets better, but's been almost 18 months and it still sucks, but hey, what do I know?"

Josh laughed nervously again then told her to have a good run before sitting down at his desk knowing the phone would soon ring for the CO meaning he would answer it. That's when he realized he didn't even know how to transfer a call.

"Oh. Ma'am?" he called out just before she closed her door.

"Yes?"

"I uh, I hate to ask, but..."

She laughed then showed him how to put someone on hold, buzz the CO, then transfer the call.

What she said next surprised him.

"Just remember. Even the squadron and battalion commanders are intimidated by the Group CO, so don't feel like you're the only one, okay?"

It was said very quietly, but that small bit of advice was the best thing he'd heard since learning he was being sent up to the Group to take the job no officer in it wanted. But the Fickle Finger of Fate had pointed his way, and he was now the new Group adjutant, like it or not.

The phone rang not 30 seconds later, and Josh steeled himself before picking it up.

"MACG-28, Captain Kennedy speaking," he said, saying each letter individually.

It was his former battalion commander, LtCol Rich Armstrong, and Josh let out a long, silent breath.

"Hey, sir. How are you?"

"Better than you," the LtCol quipped. "Is the boss in?"

"Yes, sir. Let me connect you."

Josh pushed each button as though any mistake would cause the phone to blow up as he let the Group Commander know he had a call.

"Patch him through," came the terse reply.

"Sir? I'm transferring you now."

"Good luck, Josh," his former CO said before he heard the Group Commander's voice a few seconds later shouting, "You better goddamn be kidding me!"

Josh got up and shut the CO's door but could still hear the verbal ass chewing, and he winced each time his former CO took a heat round in the chest.

"You better unfuck this right now, Colonel. Do you understand me?"

The phone slammed down a second later, and Josh realized he was holding his breath again.

Somehow, he made it through that first day which was really only half a day, and around 2000 or 8pm, he finally went home with 'home' being an apartment he shared out in the town of Havelock, North Carolina, home to Marine Corps Air Station, Cherry Point with an officer from LAAD battalion.

"So how was your first day under Josef Goebbels?" his fellow captain and roommate, Vic Watters, quipped. "I'd say Hitler, but I'm feeling charitable these days."

Josh didn't laugh. He just said, "You know, I'd heard all the rumors just like everyone else, but until you've been on the receiving end, you really have no idea."

"That bad, huh?"

Josh laughed as he cracked a beer then said, "You know the old adage."

"Which one?"

"A short career can be a good career," he replied, meaning he understood he could be fired at any time, and were that to happen, his career would effectively be over.

His roommate laughed and tried telling his friend of the last three years things would get better.

Josh thought about offering facts to counter the upbeat assurance but decided not to start whining this early as he thought of another old saying.

"This, too, shall pass."

"Yeah, like a kidney stone," he said out loud prompting his roommate to ask what the hell that meant.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," Josh said as he took a long pull and tried to put Day 1 out of his mind knowing that Day 2 was only another eight hours away.

By the time Friday rolled around, Josh realized that as much as his new job sucked, it was the XO who bore the brunt of the CO's pettiness.

In just the short time he'd been there, Josh had lost track of the times he'd heard the commander call out, "XO!" or "XO. Get in here!"

Without fail, the 43-year, senior LtCol jumped up and responded every single time.

"Yes, sir?" he'd hear her say as she left her office to enter his.

It was rare that anything got by her, but when it did, the CO invariably caught it. And when he did he took it out on her directly and in no uncertain terms almost as though he enjoyed berating her.

The one incident that really stuck out was the time the CO asked her, "How much are we paying you a month to miss things like this?" as he rudely slapped the folder the document was in into her outstretched hand.

But what also stuck with him was the way she smiled and winked at him when she came out. That gesture told him that she, like everyone else, knew he was a little Napoleon. But more importantly, it told him she wasn't about to let it get her down, and the unspoken part of it was that he shouldn't, either.

Because this was the first Friday of the month, all of the officers in the Group, less those on duty, were expected to show up at the Officer's Club for Happy Hour. Josh had a mountain of paperwork on his desk, and some of it had to be done that evening. But when the CO came out and said, "Let's go have a beer!" that was his cue to drop everything and...go have a beer.

When he got to the club, he saw the XO by the bar as he went to order one for himself.

"First one's on me, Josh," she said, surprising him that she even knew he was there.

"Okay. Um...thank you, ma'am," he said as he ordered a Bud in a longneck bottle.

She told the CO of the Air Support Squadron, MASS-2, she'd talk to him later as she turned to her subordinate and asked how his first week went even though it had only been three full days.

"Enlightening?" he replied with a smile before taking a first sip.

The senior officer laughed then said, "That's a very diplomatic way of putting a positive spin on things around here."

Josh laughed, too, then told her he was a little afraid to even say that much out loud.

"I hear you," she told him only without another laugh. "I'm bulletproof now, so I have nothing to worry about. But pretty much every other officer in this Group feels like you do."

She leaned a little closer then said, "And I did not say that."

Josh laughed then said, "No, ma'am."

LtCol Strader excused herself then continued making the rounds as she chatted up the other unit COs who were all nervously watching for the Group Commander who would be doing the same, taking each of them aside, one at a time. The difference was they all looked forward to talking with the XO while, to a man, they dreaded their 'alone time' with the boss who used these opportunities to intimidate and make demands via veiled threats. All done, of course, with a smile on his face.

As Josh watched the interaction, he was amazed that officers with 15-20 years in the Marine Corps were behaving like 'third lieutenants' around this man who'd been promoted to his present rank less than six months ago. Evidently, even being a LtCol around a Col like this guy was the same as being a 2ndLt around a captain at TBS. No, it seemed worse, and the more Josh watched, the worse it seemed.

He stayed for an hour then quietly slipped out and went back to work. When he finally got home around midnight, he was too tired to think about anything but getting a full-night's sleep for a change.

The two days reprieve from the pressure cooker were fantastic, giving him time to get to the gym and get in a run as well as just spend some time just vegging out on Saturday night. Vic invited him to go to a bar where Marines tended to do pretty well with local women, but Josh had no interest in tagging along.

"Okay. Suit yourself," Vic told him as he headed out, fully expecting to get lucky.

The following week both dragged on forever and flew by in a blur as Josh continued climbing the very steep learning curve of a job he'd never been trained for. Then again, were he to stay in for a career, most of the jobs he'd perform would be the same. He, like every other officer, would be expected to learn as he went, and not screw anything up while doing it.

Colonel Strader turned out to be his most valuable asset as she patiently helped him learn the ins and outs of administrative work. After correcting a series of new-guy mistakes she sat him down on Thursday and explained the importance of admin.